


always stuck in second gear

by moonbaby11 (ushnuu)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/F, F/M, Femslash, Friends AU, Friendship, Harry Potter Next Generation, Inspired by FRIENDS
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 20:32:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7816186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ushnuu/pseuds/moonbaby11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Molly Weasley thought she had her life together. That was until her boyfriend came out of the closet and the girl she was in love with as a teenager enters back into her life in a soaking wet wedding dress. (inspired by the tv show Friends)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the one with the wedding dress

Have you ever felt as though the whole weight of the world were on your chest? Like someone was sitting on top of you and you thought you’d never be able to breathe again? You may think I’m being melodramatic. You may even think I’ve gone insane, but that’s what people do when they’re in love. To say it was hard to move on from Elijah was an understatement. I thought I’d never be happy again. I thought I’d never love again.   
  


We’d known each other since my graduation from Hogwarts. I’d met him a few months into my first time living out and independent from my parents. We’d instantly connected and, after two weeks, we were officially together. He was the love of my life. We’d do everything together. We even decided on renting a flat together so that I could fall asleep in his arms and he could wake up to me frying up bacon. 

My perfect fantasy, however, all came crashing down after four solid years of building it up. I can remember the day to a T. January 17th, 2028. It was supposed to be a night out for the two of us, something that had become more rare the longer we were living together, but Elijah had decided to cancel our plans at the last minute. He’d taken me to our small kitchen, made me a pot of tea, and sat me down to deliver the life crushing news.  
   


He’d found someone else. No no, it wasn’t me, it was _him_. After four years together he’d come to the realization that he wasn’t, in fact, straight as he’d always assumed of himself. He was gay, and he’d met a man at work that he had an instant connection with. 

I nearly threw the tea in his face I was so angry. I couldn’t understand how it had taken him so long to reach this conclusion -- I’d known I was bisexual since the age of fifteen and I couldn’t comprehend how he hadn’t noticed the signs before he was twenty-five years old.

All of that anger, however, was only masking my pure devastation. I told him to leave that night -- I couldn’t stand to see his face anymore -- and proceeded to break down in tears on our -- now _my_ \-- bed. I cried for a solid three hours before simply drifting off to sleep due to exhaustion. I’d awoken the next morning and the cycle repeated itself. I called in to work and asked for the week off. I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t let anyone see me like this. 

My sister, Lucy, was my only source of company during that week. She brought me soup and cookies, brewed me tea, and tried to raise my morals. My mother called me up on the muggle telephone but I told her I didn’t want her to come and see me. Thankfully she respected my wishes.

Three weeks later he phoned me up and asked if he could come in to remove his things. I gave him permission, asking for the day and time he would arrive. I expect he’s assuming I’ll be there to help him move but I certainly hope he’s bringing his new boyfriend along because there’s no way I’m looking him in the face again. It hurts me too much. 

The walk down to our favourite gathering, a muggle tea shop across the street from Lucy’s flat and a block from my own, is a dreary one. It’s raining -- oh, the pathetic fallacy -- and I wish I could be anywhere but sitting with my friends. I know exactly what they’re going to do. Louis’ always been nosy and he’ll try and drag some details out of me, I’m sure of it. Thank Merlin for Lucy -- she should be able to keep everyone in check.   
   


I enter the shop and a small bell above my head indicates my entrance. All four of my friends turn their heads at the sound, and a large smile spreads over each of their faces. 

“Molly!” Louis cries out, opening his arms wide.

“Hullo,” I respond drearily, making my way through the shop to our usual places, leaving my dripping wet raincoat hanging on my shoulders. At this point I don’t even care. I could be soaked to the bone and it wouldn’t make a difference -- Elijah would still be gone.   
   


“What’s the matter?” Elle asks, perching forward on her seat. 

“ _He_ is coming back for all of his things today,” Lucy explains. 

A chorus of “ahhs” and “ohs” circulates the group, everyone nodding their head appropriately. I feel like I’m going to be sick. 

“Is he bringing his… You know what?” Jonas asks, clearly not wanting to use the word ‘boyfriend’ in front of me. 

“I don’t know,” I admit, taking a seat on the couch beside my sister. She seems to nudge over, sliding away from my wet jacket. “I didn’t ask.”   
   


“So you’re just going to let him move everything, all by himself?” Elle says, wide eyed. 

I shrug. “Oh well.” I can’t look at him. I don’t even want to hear his name uttered in my presence ever again. I just want to forget about him. Forget any of this ever happened and just move on with my life. 

“Just think,” Louis says, standing up and walking across our little circle to my spot, perching himself on the arm of the couch. “You’re living the single life now, Moll. Imagine what good that can do you.” 

“No good,” I respond, crossing my arms over my chest. 

“There’s nothing wrong with being single. Not everybody is the marrying kind.”   
   


“But I _was_ ,” I argue. “I was going to walk down an aisle to see… _him_ standing there.”   
   


“Did you ever actually talk about marriage?” Lucy asks, putting a hand on my shoulder. 

“A couple of times,” I reply sourly. Of course, that had been within the first two and a half years of our relationship. It really hadn’t come up since then. “I just wanted to get married, dammit!” I shout, probably a little too loud for my own good. “I had my dream dress picked out and everything!” 

“Uh, did it look anything like that?” Jonas asks, pointing to something behind me with eyes wide as saucers and a gaping mouth. I turn and feel my heart stop in my chest. 

I’d been so caught up in my whole sobfest that I hadn’t heard the bell above the door indicate a new customer. Standing there in a wedding dress, curled hair dripping wet, is Charlotte Flint.


	2. the one with the runaway bride

I try to pull myself together quickly, hoping to cover up the fact that I am staring, in stunned awe, at the girl who has just walked through the door. It turns out to not be too hard, however, as Charlotte has attracted the attention of everyone in the shop, customers raising curious eyebrows at her look.   
  


“Lotte?” Lucy asks, standing up, her eyes just as wide and her brows just as quirked as everyone else.   
   


“Luce!” Charlotte cries, lifting up her train and running towards her friend. “I went to your flat and when you weren’t there I tried your neighbours, and they weren’t there, but this really friendly lady in the lobby suggested you might be here,” she explains in one full breath. She’s just as I remember her.  
   


“Well, these are my neighbours,” she explains, gesturing across the room to Louis and Jonas. They both nod and Jonas adds in a little wave for extra effect. 

“Oh,” Charlotte says, eyes opening a little wider. “Hi.” I notice a blush start to creep up her cheeks and I hope to Merlin that I’m not blushing as deeply as she is now.   
   


“You’ve met Louis,” my sister continues, gesturing to our cousin. Even though he attended Beauxbatons, unlike Hogwarts like Charlotte did, she’d met him at a few family get togethers over the years. 

“Right, hi,” Charlotte says, clearly still a little flustered. 

“This is Jonas, his roommate,” she continues, gesturing to the curly haired boy to my right. He was a year above me in school, which means he was three years above Charlotte. He may look familiar to her, but I doubt they ever spoke. 

“Hello,” Charlotte says with a nod.   
   


“And this is Elle, my roommate.” Elle had quite the turbulent childhood, moving around a lot. She did a few stints in magical schools all over the continent -- a couple years in Portugal, a few in France, a handful in Russia, and one in Italy. She’s multilingual, which I’ve always admired her for, but I’m certainly thankful that my parents remained situated in the same house my whole life.   
   


“Soon to be _ex_ -roommate,” Elle points out. She’s been looking for her own place for a while now and thinks she’s finally found the perfect flat. Her and Lucy sure can butt heads when it comes to living together -- Lucy’s always been very neat and organized whereas Elle prefers to go with the flow. I’ve always assumed it has something to do with the way they were brought up; our stricter household in juxtaposition to Elle’s ever changing one.   
   


“Soon to be ex-roommate,” Lucy repeats with a nod. “Oh, and you obviously remember Molly.”   
   


“Yeah, Molly. Hi,” Charlotte says, beaming down at me. I can feel my heart thumping in my chest and for a moment I think I can’t breathe -- whether that’s her fault or a side effect of Elijah leaving me is anybody’s guess.   
   


I was in love with Charlotte Flint from fifth year to about halfway through seventh year. She was the reason I realized that I was interested in girls. I hadn’t seen her since her and Lucy’s graduation from Hogwarts and I’d thought the feelings would come to pass. I hadn’t realized that seeing her again would be like getting hit with a semi-truck.  
   


“You do know Halloween was a couple of months ago, right?” Jonas speaks up, glancing over at Charlotte. Lucy smacks him in the arm.   
   


“Hm?” Charlotte asks, a look of confusion passing over her face. “Oh, this?” she says, glancing down at the wet wedding dress hanging from her small frame. “I, uh, may have just run out on my wedding.”   
   


“You were getting married and I wasn’t invited?” Lucy asks, looking rather offended.   
   


“It was a family matter,” Charlotte quickly replies. “I think my parents only invited purebloods, and since your Mum is a muggleborn-”   
   


“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lucy says, waving it off.   
   


“Anyways, I was supposed to be marrying Frederick Travers,” she continues. “He was three years above you in school, Molly,” Charlotte explains, glancing over at me. I nod, trying to stop the thumping of my heart that I’m sure is loud enough for the whole shop to hear. “He’s a pureblood, you know, and my father wants to keep us as pure as possible.”   
   


“So it was an arranged marriage?” Louis asks.   
   


She nods her head. “I wanted to impress my father. I thought maybe marrying for status, not love, wouldn’t be so bad.” She hesitates, casting her eyes to the ground. “About an hour before the ceremony I freaked out and just… left.”   
   


“You didn’t!” Elle replies, staring at Charlotte with a look that seems to be a mix of shock and admiration.  
   


“I did,” she continues with a nod and the smallest of smiles. “And then I went looking for Luce because I wasn’t sure where else to turn, and then I ended up here, hoping you’d be able to house me for a week or so while everything settles down.” 

“Do you think your parents will be angry?” asks Jonas.   
   


“Not angry,” she replies. “Just… disappointed in me, I guess. They told me it was my choice, but I made my decision based on what I thought they would want.”  
   


“Look, Lotte,” my sister says, turning to look at her friend. “I’d love to have you stay with us but it’s a little cramped right now. Elle’s got the only other room and she’s been starting to pack boxes. I don’t even know if there’s room on the couch.” Charlotte begins to nibble, nervously, on her bottom lip. She turns to look at Jonas but Lucy quickly grabs her arm to stop her from asking. “You really don’t want to do that,” she advises.   
   


“Well where the hell am I supposed to stay?” she cries out, clearly exasperated.   
   


“With me!” I offer, probably a bit too quickly than I should. “I mean… I’ve got a nice, big flat. It’s only got one bedroom but I can make the couch up for you and everything.” It may not be the most lavish of places, especially not compared to the sort of pureblood lifestyle Charlotte is coming from, but I can only assume it’s better than nothing.   
   


She glances to Lucy, as if looking for confirmation that staying with me is the right idea. This time my sister nods her head. I grin triumphantly. “Alright, Molly. You’ve got yourself a new roommate!”   
   


“Thank Merlin,” I reply, leaning back on the couch. Maybe it’ll be nice to have someone around all the time again, just like Elijah. The fact that it’s _Charlotte Flint_ is already helping to improve my mood.  
   


“Well, can we get going?” she asks, staring at me. “I’d like to change out of this dress. It feels like it weighs a tonne.” 

I pause and glance down at my watch. Elijah’s probably still in my flat, moving all of his things. I don’t want to risk running into him, especially not with Charlotte. “Not yet.”   
   


“Why?”   
   


“Because…” Do I really want to throw all this baggage on her now? I’m assuming that whole story can wait for a different time. “Because you won’t fit into any of my clothes and you’ll need something dry, right?” Nice save. “Elle looks to be your size.”   
   


The small blonde gets to her feet and walks over to Charlotte, quickly comparing their height. “Looks right to me,” she says with a shrug. “Come on, we can all go up to our place.”   
   


“Thank Merlin!” Louis cries.   
   


“Hey -- you’re only invited if you promise to stay out of our fridge,” Lucy says, pointing at our cousin and narrowing her eyes.  

“ _Dammit_.”  

* * *

The rain had cleared up and the walk across the street to Lucy and Elle’s flat was a pleasant one. Well, about as pleasant as it really could be when I knew damn well what was happening at my own flat, further down the street.  

Entering the flat Louis, Jonas, and I all park ourselves on the sofa in front of the telly. Growing up with a muggleborn mother meant we’d had the influence of television in our lives more so than people that were raised by two half or pureblood parents. We didn’t watch the telly very often, but we like exposing people like Louis and Elle -- and I guess Charlotte now - to the wonders of muggle television.  

Jonas reaches for a copy of the Daily Prophet that's lying on the coffee table and pulls out a pencil he’d been keeping behind his ear. “Seven letters - Albus‘ patronus…” Jonas muses aloud. 

“Jonas,” Lucy calls from the kitchen where she is preparing a pot of tea for Charlotte, “What have I told you about doing my crossword puzzles?”

“Relax, Luce. I’m just helping,” he replies, not even bothering to look at her as he waves her comments away. “Albus‘ patronus… Your _cousin_ Albus?”  

“Why the hell would Al Potter be in a Daily Prophet crossword puzzle?” Lucy calls from the kitchen, apparently having given up on stopping Jonas from messing with her newspaper. 

“Well, his Dad _is_ the boy who lived.”  

“They probably mean Albus Dumbledore,” I reply, rolling my eyes. 

“Oh,” Jonas replies rather sheepishly. “Well, in that case, anyone know Albus Dumbledore’s patronus?” He glances around the room and we all remain silent, shaking our heads. “Hey, Luce, where’s your chocolate frog card collection?”  

“In the back closet,” she replies, gesturing down the hallway.  

“Brilliant, thanks,” Jonas says with a big grin.  

“Hey! _Hey!_ Jonas, don’t you _dare_ mess them up. They’re organized by rarity and then alphabetized!” I turn and watch as Lucy follows Jonas down the hallway to ensure he doesn’t mess with her organization too badly. That leaves Louis and I alone on the couch.

“So, Charlotte Flint, huh?” Louis asks, waggling his eyebrows in a way that I’ve never understood was possible until I really started spending time with him.  

“What about her?” I ask, feigning innocence.  

“Come on, Moll. You were head over heels for her in your sixth year!”  

“Shhh,” I hiss, trying to silence him. There may be a closed door separating us and her, but that doesn’t mean that she won’t be able to hear my cousin. He’s always been a loud guy. “That was six years ago. I was a child.”  

“Are you a seer?” he asks me. 

“Excuse me?” 

“Are you a seer?” 

“Lou, you know I’m terrible at Divination. What the hell are you talking about?” 

“Well, how did you know she was going to turn out so hot?”   
   


I want to punch him in the face, but I know I’ll lose in a fight against Louis. I open my mouth to fight him with my words, a fight I’m guaranteed to win, when Elle’s bedroom door opens and Charlotte steps out.  

She’s wearing a pair of skinny jeans and a loose pullover. I stop, my mouth drying up at the sight of her. Her curls are pulled up into a high ponytail and her makeup has been fixed -- no longer is her eyeliner streaked from the rain. Louis lets out a low whistle and this time I don’t hesitate to punch him in the arm.  

“Tada!” Elle shouts, coming out from the room behind Charlotte. She wiggles her fingers in Charlotte’s direction, a look of pride on her face. “I made her up myself,” she explains, stepping around the dark haired girl and walking towards the two of us on the couch. “The hair was all me. The outfit was more her idea, although I did help somewhat.” 

“Good job,” I say, not able to take my eyes off of Charlotte. Even in this outfit she’s just as beautiful as I remember her.  

“Hell yeah,” Louis agrees with a nod. I break away from staring at the younger girl to turn my attention to my blond cousin. He’s not breaking his stare on Charlotte either and I swear I can see drool pooling in his mouth. 

“Okay, enough staring,” Elle says, walking over and standing in front of Louis to block his view of Charlotte.  

“Hm?” he asks, shaking his head and snapping back to reality. “Hey! Move out of the way!”  

“I don’t think Charlotte appreciates you drooling over her,” Elle says, hands on her hips. “Do you, Charlotte?”  

“Oh, I don’t mind,” she responds with a small shrug. “It’s kind of nice, actually. Frederick never looked at me like that. Ever.” 

“See?” Louis says, glaring up at Elle. He poke his head around Elle’s legs and grins at Charlotte. “So… Got any plans for later tonight?”  

“Oh my god, are you hitting on my best friend?” Lucy cries, returning from the closet with Jonas and a chocolate frog card in hand. “It’s her wedding day!”  

“What, like I’m not allowed to hit on brides?”  

“Put a sock in it,” I mutter, rolling my eyes and nudging Louis with my foot.  

“Sod off, Moll,” he replies.  

“I, uh, think I’m just planning on spending the night in with Lucy,” Charlotte replies, uncertainty clear in her tone. She glances across the room at my sister.  

“Oh, yeah, of course!” Lucy says, handing the card off to Jonas and hurrying across the room. “Yeah, hun, we can do whatever you want, alright? I’ve got some muggle board games in the back and a Daily Prophet crossword puzzle that I doubt Jonas will ever be able to finish-”  

“Hey!” Jonas cries out, swinging the newspaper and attempting to hit Lucy in the head with it. Luckily for her she played Quidditch for four years and has quick reflexes. She ducks and the Daily Prophet comes into contact with nothing but air.  

“And the telly!” She spins Charlotte around to show her the television. 

“I don’t even know what that is.”  

“A muggle thing,” Elle quickly explains.  

“See, my place can be lots of fun! Way more fun than getting married to Frederick Travers.”  

“We were going to spend a week in Italy after the honeymoon,” Charlotte says, the look on her face suddenly dropping down into a frown.  

“Oooh, I lived in Italy when I was fifteen!” Elle exclaims, clasping her hands together out of excitement. “It was…” She trails off as she finally begins to notice that we’re all staring at her, trying to signal for her to stop. “Not… that good. I’ve always preferred living here to stupid old Italy.”  

The group lapses into a silence and I glance around. Charlotte looks upset about the whole situation -- the adrenaline has probably worn off and the gravity of the situation is probably weighing on her for the first time since she decided to leave -- and everyone else seems to be wracking their brains for a way to cheer her up. 

“We can all stay here with you tonight,” I offer, my face lighting up as the idea passes through my mind. I’d like a chance to spend some more time with Charlotte, catching up. Besides, maybe a night in with my friends would do me some good. I had a feeling my flat would smell like Elijah‘s cologne when I finally returned. “It will give you a chance to get to know everybody. It’ll probably help for you to be around people.” 

“Except maybe not Louis,” Lucy cuts in, rolling her eyes.  

“Lou, you’re not invited,” Elle says, no hesitation.  

“What?” Louis asks, eyes wide. “This isn’t fair! This is _cruel_!”  

“You’re just going to eat all of our food anyways,” Lucy says, eyebrow raised.  

Louis opens his mouth to argue but shuts it just as quickly. “Fair point,” he finally says.  

“No, no, Louis can stay,” Charlotte says. “Really. I’d like to get to know all of you.” 

“It’s a date,” Louis says with a grin.  

“No, it isn’t,” Lucy tells him, rolling her eyes once more.  

“Look, if you keep saying shit like that, you’re uninvited,” I advise him, although after a moment I wish I hadn’t. If he’s uninvited then maybe I can have Charlotte all to myself. There will be no competing for her attention.  

“Okay, alright, relax,” he says, holding his hands up as if he were surrendering to us.  

“Phoenix!”  

We all turn and stare at Jonas. “What was that?” Lucy asks.  

“Phoenix,” he replies, holding up the chocolate frog card. “Albus Dumbledore’s patronus is a phoenix.” 

We all let out a groan. This night may be longer than I was anticipating. 


	3. the one with all the firewhisky

The Firewhisky comes out after dinner. We’d sat around and relaxed for a little while, sometimes turning on the telly and channel surfing before flicking it off after finding nothing worth watching. Lucy made everyone dinner -- she’s an aspiring chef, after all, even if she’s currently only tending bar at a local wizarding hangout -- and it was the best meal I’d had in weeks.   
  


Lucy pulls the bottle out as we’re all lying around in the living area, wondering aloud if we’ll ever be able to eat again. 

“I shouldn’t have had that second piece of pie,” Jonas moans, holding his stomach. 

“Lucky bastard. I didn’t even finish one piece of pie,” I reply, lying on my stomach across the couch. I’d eaten too much of the main course and had forgotten to save room for dessert -- stupid me.  

“I don’t know what you guys are complaining about,” Louis responds from the chair near the telly, looking much more content than the rest of us do.  

“Just because your stomach is a _bottomless pit_ ,” Elle begins, rolling her eyes.  

“Hey, it’s not bottomless!”  

“Almost,” I reply, rolling over onto my side. “What about you, Charlotte? How are you feeling?” 

“That was almost as good as a wedding feast,” she says with a small laugh. I can’t help it -- I laugh right along with her.  

While Lucy was making dinner and we were channel surfing, Charlotte had made her way into Elle’s bedroom to borrow some parchment, a quill, and Elle’s owl, Spot. She’d written a letter to her parents, explaining the whole situation, before sending it off with Spot. I’d offered to let her use the telephone when she got back to my place, only to quickly remember that she was from an old pureblood family. They certainly didn’t have any need for a muggle telephone in their homes. I sincerely hoped she hadn’t noticed how deeply I was blushing when I realized my error. 

“And right along with a wedding feast come drinks!” Lucy announces loudly, carrying the bottle in one hand and three glasses in the other. She sets it all down on the coffee table and then returns to the kitchen to grab three more.  

“Oi, you’ve got the good stuff this time!” Louis says with a grin, quickly grabbing a glass as he examines the bottle. “Everybody knows Blishen’s is better than Ogden’s.” He unscrews the lid and pours himself a drink.  

“How can you even think about putting more into your stomach right now?” Jonas asks, sitting up. 

“It’s Firewhisky, mate! Do you really expect me to say no?” He raises an eyebrow at Jonas as he takes a swig from his cup. He doesn’t even react to the burning sensation of the drink running down his throat.  

“Give me that,” Charlotte says, snatching the bottle from Louis and filling her cup nearly to the top. I want to reach out and tell her to stop, to slow down, but I think better of it. She’s had a rough day. She ran away from the altar. She needs this.  

“Fuck it,” I mutter, grabbing the bottle and the final cup off of the table. I pour myself a nice large helping - not as much as Charlotte but still enough - and take a huge gulp. I wince as the alcohol burns my throat, but I keep going. Maybe if I have enough I can forget about Elijah for a couple of hours. I’m not one to drink alone so I don’t keep any Firewhisky around the house. I’d mostly just been trying to push Elijah out of my mind with my willpower alone, but maybe some alcohol will actually do the job. 

“Do you have enough alcohol there or should I grab _another_ cup?” Lucy asks, eyeing Charlotte’s cup suspiciously as she finally returns with glasses for the rest of them. 

“I’m good, thanks,” Charlotte says, waving her off. Lucy merely rolls her eyes, taking a seat beside me on the couch and handing out glasses to Elle and Jonas. Jonas takes his a little warily, but seems to decide that he might as well drink if the rest of us are doing it.  

The bottle makes its way around the group before winding up in the middle of the table once more. We’ve all got full cups and even fuller bellies, but none of us really seem to mind too much. We haven’t sat around and just drank like this since everything with Elijah had gone down. I’d been somewhat living as a hermit.  

Louis takes another sip, letting out a small moan of satisfaction. “This is some good shit,” he says, glancing over at Lucy with a smirk.  

“I aim to please,” she responds with a smirk of her own. She seems to have the least amount of Firewhisky in her own glass, which isn‘t surprising. Lucy’s the responsible one -- the mother of the group, so to speak -- and has to make sure that all the rest of us remain in check. Louis is the biggest problem as he’s been known to overindulge in Firewhisky on quite a few occasions. Elle can sometimes be a bit of a problem as well, but that’s more because she seems to want to do crazy things when she gets too much alcohol in her system. It doesn’t occur very often, but it has led to a few awkward experiences. 

“Believe me, I am pleased,” Jonas remarks, raising his glass to Lucy. “The food, the Firewhisky, it’s all perfect.”  

For a moment I swear I see a small blush creep onto Lucy’s face, but maybe it’s just from the Firewhisky. I blink and the blush seems to be gone. Lucy’s eyes are on the carpet. “Now if only _you_ were hiring,” she mutters.  

“Hey, hey,” I interject, reaching out and laying a hand on my younger sister’s shoulder. “You’ll get a job soon. You’re still young.”  

“Twenty isn’t _that_ young,” she responds. 

“You only graduated two years ago,” Elle argues.  

“Two and a _half_ ,” Lucy says, really stressing the half. I can see Charlotte roll her eyes in my peripheral vision and I have to bite down on my tongue to stop myself from laughing. “I’ll be _twenty-one_ in April and with the way my luck’s going I’ll still be bartending.”  

“Some people just need a little bit of time to get on their feet,” I say.  

“And how long did it take _you_ to get a real job, Molly?” she asks in a rather biting tone. 

I don’t respond. We all know that I was offered a job right out of Hogwarts. It was only two months after graduation that I was offered acceptance into my dream program -- working in the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Division of the Ministry. I had certainly made my father and Grandad proud of me. More proud than my dad had ever been of Lucy, that was for damn sure. That was where I had met Jonas. Although he worked for a separate division of the ministry -- the Administrative Registration Department, something he found incredibly, mind-numbingly boring -- we both worked underneath the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. We’d met on our first day of work, in the break room, and had been friends ever since. He’d gotten a job just as easily as I had.  

Elle worked for a small shop in Hogsmeade which specialized in magical herbal remedies. A lot of people thought it was all a bunch of bullshit, just like muggle herbal remedies, but I tended to disagree with them. I’d always had faith in Elle’s products -- they’d healed me up nice and quickly more than a few times.  

Louis was a bit of a different story. He was trying to make it big as a Quidditch star. At the moment he was only playing for an amateur team, but he was hoping to get picked up some day. We all rooted for him, showing up to as many of his matches as we could manage around our own busy work schedules, but I’m sure I wasn’t the only one thinking that he may never make a real career out of Quidditch. He was good, but sometimes I doubted if he was really _that_ good.  

“Exactly.” That’s all Lucy has to say on the matter.  

Jonas reaches forward and takes the glass of Firewhisky from Lucy’s hands. He sets it down on the table. “Maybe that’s enough for now.”  

“I’ve only had two sips,” she argues, looking rather offended by the implications of his words.  

“And if you have more you’re probably just going to feel worse about yourself,” explains Jonas, taking a sip from his own glass. “Maybe you should just stop there.” 

Lucy huffs, crossing her arms over her chest, but she doesn’t argue any further. I think a part of her knows that Jonas is right, but she’s always been stubborn. She’s not going to admit that she’s wrong. 

I let my mind wander, eyes drifting not so subtly across the room to Charlotte. She’s seated on the floor on the opposite side of the coffee table. Her gaze is cast down, staring at the Firewhisky in her glass. She doesn’t seem to be paying very much attention to the rest of the conversation. I resist the urge to get up and try see how she’s doing -- I don’t want to be too obvious -- and instead remain where I am, watching the younger girl from afar.  

“Hey, Charlotte, are you okay?” Louis speaks up from his seat on the chair. I breathe a small sigh of relief, glad I wasn’t the only one to notice and even more glad I wasn’t the person to speak up.  

“’m fine,” she slurs, finishing up the Firewhisky in her glass and making another grab for the bottle. Jonas stops her and just slides Lucy’s glass in her direction. Charlotte nods, picking up the cup, and raises it to her lips. None of us make a move to stop her. She’ll be my responsibility for the night and it’s not like she has anything to worry about tomorrow. She comes from old money - she’s not employed. She can nurse that hangover all day while the rest of us work our butts off to bring home some sickles.  

“Alright,” Louis says with a shrug, downing more alcohol. We all lapse into a silence, most of us taking sips from our cups. Lucy is glaring at Jonas, shooting daggers in his direction. I can feel the tension rising in the room and I’m sure that I’m not the only one. Louis seems to gulp as he sets down his now empty glass on the table.  

“Whoa, look at the stars!” Elle suddenly says, clearly making an attempt to distract everyone from what I can only assume might break out into a full on argument. We all turn to look towards the large window in their apartment.  

“Wow,” Louis mutters, and I‘m sure that he‘s just trying to help Elle out at this point. “There’s so many of them.”  

“Come on! Let’s go outside and find pictures in the sky!” the petite blonde suggests, hopping to her feet and hurrying out onto their balcony.  

Louis follows her to the door and, with a bit of prodding, gets Jonas to come along as well. Lucy seems to hesitate before sighing and standing up. Everyone is heading towards the balcony but I stay rooted where I am. I don’t want to go out and look at the stars. They’ll only remind me of him. One of our very first dates was a moonlight picnic and he’d fed me some bullshit story about how we would both always be staring at the same moon and how that would remind me of his love, or some crap like that. As I said -- bullshit. Instead I reach for the bottle, hoping to make my stupid memories of him as distant as possible.  

Charlotte stops halfway to the door and turns to look at me. “Aren’t you going to go out?” she asks, her words slurring together at the end of her sentence. She’s had a fair amount to drink and, quite honestly, I’m shocked that she’s standing as steadily as she is right now.  

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “No no no.”  

“Why not?” she continues, walking back towards me and sitting down on the couch.  

“The stars make me think about _him_.”  

“ _Him_?” 

“Elijah Thomas,” I explain, leaning back. His name leaves a foul taste in my mouth and I want to physically cringe, but I keep those feelings to myself. “My ex.” I hadn’t meant to tell her like this, but there was no backtracking now. It was easier to explain the truth than to try and come up with some insane lie about how I was afraid of stars, or something. 

“Oh,” Charlotte replies. “What happened?”  

“He left me,” I say. “He realized that I wasn’t really what he was looking for.”  

“What d’you mean?” 

“He left me for a man,” I reply simply, not wanting to go too far into it. “It turns out that I’m not exactly his type.” 

There’s a pause and then Charlotte is placing a hand on my thigh. “I’m sorry.”  

For a moment I forget to breathe. Charlotte Flint is touching my leg. Charlotte Flint is comforting me. I realize I probably look stupid so I suck in a deep breath - probably not the most subtle of moves - and try to just focus on the conversation at hand.  

“Oh, yeah, it’s… It’s nothing.” I’m lying. I’m straight up lying through my teeth to this beautiful girl whose hand is still on my thigh.  

“Are you sure?” she asks, a look of deep concern crossing her face. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m sure.” Another lie. Oh Merlin, she can probably tell. She probably knows that I’m lying to her. She’s probably fully aware that I am  _not_ okay. I need to change the topic and fast. “You know, uh, back at Hogwarts I had a major crush on you. In, like, sixth year,” I say, words slurring together. What the _hell_ was that? What the hell was I thinking? How was _that_ any better? It must be all of the alcohol. If it weren’t for that I doubted I’d be saying any of this at all. Maybe it was time that I finally stopped drinking.  

“I knew,” Charlotte says, patting my leg and finally removing her hand. I’d thought that move might help to clear up my brain but no, it’s still as cloudy as before. I blame the Firewhisky.

“You knew?” I ask, eyes wide. “But, uh, you never said anything. I thought you just looked at me as Lucy’s older, nerdy, Ravenclaw sister.”  

“I did.”  

“Damn.” Oh shit. I’d said that out loud. Eyes widen again. “I mean, uh, I’d always thought that I was a bit more subtle about it.”  

“You? Subtle?” She laughs and it makes my heart pound in my chest. I can’t believe this is happening. It’s been years and yet, somehow, the little things can still cause me to feel a surge of feelings for her. This can’t end well.  

“Well, uh, I thought I was,” I reply, rather lamely. 

“Not at all.”  

“Oh.” Shit, she can probably already tell. She probably already knows that I’ve been staring at her all night and thinking about her ever since she ran into the tea shop in her wedding dress. Merlin, she’s probably seeing right through me.  

“To tell you the truth, though,” Charlotte says, leaning towards me, “I was kind of flattered by it all.”  

“R- really?” I ask, not able to stop the words quivering as they fall from my lips. She’s close - way too close. I can smell the Firewhisky on her breath, but I can also smell her perfume. It’s a sweet scent. Vanilla, I think.  

“You were a prefect - you were Head Girl - and yeah you were a bit of a nerd, but you always treated me with respect, unlike a lot of the other people that had crushes on me.”  

“Oh,” I say, my voice shaking. I want to lean forward, to kiss her softly, to find out if her lips really taste like I’d imagined they would during our Hogwarts years.  

“Yeah,” she says, raising her brown eyes. We lock onto each other’s gaze for a few moments before I break away.  

I swallow hard, eyes directed down at the hands folded tightly in my lap. “Listen,” I begin, trying to hide my nerves. “Do you think I could ever-” I’m cut off by the other four returning in from the balcony. I silently curse myself, but then wonder if perhaps it was for the best. Charlotte’s only been back in my life for less than twelve hours and I was already thinking about asking her out. That probably would’ve been a _disaster_.  

“I’m sending these two home,” Lucy says, clearly the most sober of the six of us, “And the two of you might want to do the same.”  

Charlotte had pulled away from me as the group had walked back into the flat. We’re still sitting close enough that our thighs are touching but I can no longer inhale her perfume. She glances at the clock. “It’s only 11.”  
   


“It’s Sunday,” Elle replies, letting out a small yawn.  
   


“…So?” Charlotte says, looking around the room for clarification.   
   


“I have to work tomorrow,” Jonas says, stopping halfway to the front door to turn around and face the newest member of our group. “We aaaaaaaall have to work tomorrow.” He gestures around the room.   
   


“Work?” Charlotte asks, wide eyed, confirming my suspicion that she really hadn’t been listening earlier.  

“Yes, work,“ Lucy says, slinging an arm around Charlotte’s shoulder, a faint smirk on her lips. “Welcome to the real world, Lotte.” 


End file.
